


It's Just The Wind

by itsaspnthing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Burglary, Cigarettes, Comforting John, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy John Winchester, Forehead Kisses, John Sings, Leather, Protective John Winchester, Rain, Rugaru Hunt, Showers, Sleepy Cuddles, Spanking, Teasing, stormy night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 15:38:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17921618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsaspnthing/pseuds/itsaspnthing
Summary: The reader and John live together, but when he leaves to go on a hunt, you have the apartment to yourself. During an intense wind storm, you get a surprise visitor.





	It's Just The Wind

**Author's Note:**

> I know John is not fluffy in canon. I just like to fantasize about a caring, fluffy John Winchester. I hope you do, too!

The couch was beginning to form an indent in the shape of your behind when you finally decided to get up and make yourself something to eat. You hummed the theme song to Dexter as you dragged your slippered feet across the tile floors of the kitchen. When you opened the fridge, you saw a post-it note stuck to the two-liter bottle of Diet Pepsi. He must have known that was the first thing you were going to reach for. 

You smiled to yourself, ripping the yellow note from the plastic bottle. “Y/N,” the note was written sloppily. You could tell it was rushed, but also thoughtful. “Please don’t forget to eat while I’m gone. Something that doesn’t come in a package. I’ll be back as soon as I can. John.” 

You bit your lip and chuckled to yourself, bringing the sticky note to your bra-lass chest, knowing that he really cared for you. 

When you finally heated up a Lean Cuisine, even though John specifically asked you to eat a real meal, you scurried back to the couch. You set the glass of diet Pepsi on the end table, along with the steaming plastic bowl of low-fat chicken alfredo. When you sat down, you covered yourself   
with the blanket that you threw to the other side of the couch. It was still warm, thank God because your living room couldn’t seem to warm up. 

It didn’t take long for your dinner to cool-off, and as you ate, you flicked through Netflix to find something to watch. You’ve watched the entire first season of Dexter, you needed a break, seeing as how this was the second time you’ve watched the show. How I Met Your Mother popped up, and you decided to put that on. You needed something mindless. 

A few episodes in, the wind began to howl and the tree in front of the window was quaking against the glass. You hated wind, especially when you were home alone. When you were a child, wind and thunder terrified you and that fear followed you into adulthood. You thought back to your childhood home, waking your parents up out of a sound sleep because you swore you heard a scary noise. Your mother would tell you that it was “just the wind” but you never believed her. 

Now, the floors in your old apartment would creek with the smallest bit of wind. When the furnace would kick on, or the ice machine would whir, you always got scared. That was the great part about having John around. You scared easily, and he was always there to comfort you. Right now, though, you wished he wasn’t out on a hunt. It was ironic that your entire life your parents told you that there was no such thing as ghosts, or boogeymen, and now you were dating someone who hunted those things you were told didn’t exist. 

You weren’t interested in hunting. You were interested in the lore, though. So you were the brains and John was the brawn. He would tell you if something came up, something strange, and you would do research on the case. Even though John was a seasoned hunter, he enjoyed the help. Usually he would sip on his beer at the kitchen table and watch you on the other side of the table with your nose buried in your MacBook.   
You thought back to the first time the two of you figured out how your system would work. He was tired, he just got done hunting a Rugaru outside of Denver. Exhausted was an understatement for how he was feeling that night. He was still covered in blood and dirt, but he was gone for a few days. He wanted to stay up and spend some time with you. 

The brightness of your laptop shadowed your face, the reflection of the website you were on reflected in your eyes. John smirked his perfect white teeth, and licked his lips before bringing the bottle of Bud Light to his freshly moistened lips. You noticed his smile, and looked up at him without lifting your head at all. 

You cleared your throat, and looked back down to the computer screen. “Something funny, Winchester?” He smiled once more, somewhat wider this time, his dimples sinking in but barely noticeable. They had been almost completely covered by his salt and pepper beard. “No, nothing’s funny sweetheart.” You raised one of your eyebrows, puzzled by what he could possibly be smiling about. He just got back from hunting a Rugaru, alone, and now he was looking for a nest of vampires. You thought he should have been more on edge. Not John though. He always kept it calm, cool and collected. 

“Just,” he paused, trying to find the right words to say, “just thinking about how we should make this a thing.” He took another sip of Bud Light. 

That night was the first time the two of you made love. And it was so good, that the two of you didn’t want anyone else. It was just the two of you. You were a team. 

Now though, you were lonely. Snuggling with your blanket, listening to the howling of the winds that were now getting stronger. The windows in your place were creaking, and the weather app on your phone said that the wind gusts were expected to go up to 75 miles per hour. 

Your eyes widened when you saw the time. It was almost midnight. “Shit.” You paused the episode of How I Met Your Mother, got up and locked the door, turned the lights and TV off, and moved into your bedroom. You pulled the comforter of your queen sized bed to the side and slid in. You reached for your Roku remote on the nightstand as you covered yourself up with the comforter. The episode of How I Met Your Mother resumed, and about five minutes in, you drifted into sleep. 

You dreamt of John for what seemed like hours before the loud crackles of thunder and bright flashes of lightning flashed through the blinds of your bedroom. You couldn’t have been asleep that long because Netflix was still playing. It hadn’t asked if you were still watching. You reached over for your phone, but it was dead because you had forgotten to plug it in before falling asleep. 

You sighed and pulled the blankets off, plugged your phone in, and walked to the living room to check the clock on the cable box. 1:36 a.m. 

The rain and branches were tapping against the glass. The lightning was getting brighter, and the thunder was getting louder. There was no chance in hell that you were falling back asleep, so you put on a pot of coffee and came to grips with the fact that going back to dreaming of your man was out of the question. 

You missed him. You thought of him as you sipped your coffee on the couch. You didn’t care to watch any more TV, so you just sat with your legs tucked underneath you, watching as the rain drops covered the windows. 

It didn’t take long for your coffee to cause pressure on your bladder, so you set the mug down on the end table and got up to use the restroom. The porcelain was cold against the flesh of your ass, so you made it as quick as possible. You turned the light off to the bathroom and made your way back to the couch until you heard a rustling at your apartment door. Panic struck and you quickly, yet quietly, ran to your bedroom, locking the door behind you. 

John told you to always keep something for protection close by. He offered to give you one of his guns, but you didn’t trust yourself with a firearm. So, you made do with a baseball bat, a wooden Louisville Slugger. It was heavy in your hands when you retrieved it from your closet, and even though you had to swing it with both hands, you held it with one, grabbing your still dead phone with the other. You cursed at it, throwing it on the unmade bed. You wanted to call John, but you had no means to do so. 

You had to protect yourself. 

You heard footsteps through the living room, through the hall, and finally approaching your bedroom. The door knob slowly turned and whoever it was attempted to open the door but was stopped by the lock. The door shook as they tried to enter, and then you heard a deep, familiar voice. 

“Princess?” 

“John?!” You quickly ran to unlock the door, still holding the bat in your hand. The lock disengaged, and he swung it open as soon as he heard the lock switch. 

When you saw him, dirty leather jacket and muddy lace up boots still on, you threw the bat onto the hardwood floor with a clunk, and jumped in his arms. “John.” He held you tightly as you breathed in the smell of leather and cigarettes. “You scared me,” you squeezed him tighter, gripping on to the rough leather, “I didn’t know you were going to be home.” 

He set you down, but you still gripped on the lapels of his unzipped jacket, breathing in his scent. “I texted you, and called you,” he cupped the right side of your face with his palm and you nuzzled in closer to his hand. “I figured you were sleeping, I didn’t want to wake you.” 

You closed your eyes and tucked your lips in. “I’m an idiot,” you said, looking down, realizing that your phone had been dead and John tried reaching you. 

He chuckled, his smile slightly upturned to one side. He reached out to hold your arms and walked backwards towards your bed, gently pulling you with him. He sat down on the edge of the bed, spreading his knees to you can stand in between his legs. “Why weren’t you sleeping, princess?” He asked as he lightly ran his fingers up and down your arms, sending shivers up your spine. You didn’t respond, you just nodded your head towards the window, lightning still flashing through the blinds. “I figured,” he stopped caressing your arms and shook his jacket off his shoulders, throwing it to the ground. “That’s why I decided to drive home tonight, and not tomorrow morning,” he kicked his boots off and laid down on the bed, pulling you next to him. 

You giggled when he pulled you next to him with ease. “I know how much you hate storms,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “Come here, sweets,” he pulled you closer. “Let’s get you to sleep.” You didn’t want him to fall asleep before you, so you nuzzled in his neck, peppering light kisses under his ear, and along his jaw. 

“John,” you whispered. 

He opened the eye that was closer to you, keeping the other one closed while looking down at you lazily. “What baby?” He said quietly with a sigh, pretending to be annoyed, but you could see a smile start to form. He closed his eyes once more, one arm around you, and the other was above him with his hand under his messy-haired head. 

You nudged him, wiggling your body closer into him, and he chuckled loudly causing vibrations to fill your body. “Y/N,” he said warningly, “you know you’re going to get more than you bargained for.” 

You looked up at him, causing him to turn his head and open both of his eyes. His pupils dilated when he met your gaze, as did yours. “God, Y/N,” he brought the arm that was under his head over to your face, swiping back to entangle his fingers in your hair. You were both now facing each other and your heart was beating out of your chest. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” He paused and you didn’t respond, you just stared at his lust-filled hazel eyes. “How perfect you are?” 

You closed your eyes, and hid your face in the pillows. John hated when you hid your face, when you tried to deflect his compliments. “Woah, woah,” he leaned up on his elbow, and took his free hand to guide your face away from the pillow. “You know I don’t like that,” he said, and you stared at him blankly, shrugging your shoulders. 

Your eyes were getting heavy as John held you close. The sound of his breathing and the feel of his heartbeat was like a lullaby to you. You closed your eyes, succumbing to your exhaustion. John lightly hummed the tune of a song that was familiar, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. 

The deep, throaty humming was making your eyes even more heavy. He watched as you drifted off to sleep. “Y/N,” he said quietly, but still the depth of his voice carried through the bedroom. 

“Hm?” You responded sleepily. 

“You are beautiful,” he whispered quietly in your ear, not letting you ignore his compliments. 

“Thank...” and you were finally asleep before you could finish your thank you. 

***************************  
You woke up as the light entered your blinds. The wind had stopped, as did the thunder and lightning. The ground was still wet from the rain, but the sun was finally making its way through the clouds.

Your eyes were still closed, reaching for John but you were greeted only with the sheets and pillows. When you realized he was no longer next you, you opened your eyes and quickly got out of bed. You walked down the hall to the bathroom, the door was closed and you heard the shower running, and John quietly singing. You smiled as he sang Fleetwood Mac. 

Quietly opening the door, you bit your lip, trying to surprise him. Once you entered the steam filled bathroom, you shut the door, hoping he didn’t hear the click of the latch. The deepness of John’s voice as he sang The Chain brought comfort to you, but it also brought a tightness to your core. That was one of the things that turned you on about John - his voice. He could turn you on with just one word. 

Once your were naked, you wanted to look at yourself, but you were unable to see much through the steam that covered the mirror. 

You quickly pulled back the shower curtain, and John immediately stopped singing. 

“Keep going, I love it,” you said, stepping into the shower behind John. 

He was rinsing the shampoo out of his salt and pepper hair when he gripped your waist, pulling you tight and planting a long, hard kiss on your lips. “Good morning, sweet pea.” He broke the kiss and pulled you under the hot water, letting your hair get wet. “Good morning, hot stuff.” Once your hair was saturated with water, you reached for the bottle of shampoo that was on the ledge of the tub. 

“Let me,” John said as he took the shampoo bottle out of your hands, squeezing some into the palm of his hands. You didn’t say anything, you just turned your back to him and tilted your head back to give him more access to your head. Once his hands were covered in shampoo, he gently massaged it into your scalp. His fingers worked in circular motions, letting it lather in your hair. You moaned when he hit certain spots on your scalp, behind your ears particularly. John smiled in fulfilment, knowing he was giving you pleasure when you closed your eyes and moaned deeper. 

Water trickled down your breasts when you rinsed the shampoo out of you hair, and John watched as your nipples hardened underneath the cascade of water. You lifted your arms to put conditioner on your freshly washed hair and he took the opportunity to kneel down before you to take your exposed nipples in his warm mouth. 

“John,” you gasped his name sharply and ran your fingers through his wet hair. He didn’t say anything, he just continued flicking your nipple with his tongue, and gently grazing them between his teeth. “Fuck, John,” you said his name once more, and he stopped this time, lifting you up with ease and pushing you against the wet wall of the shower. Once he had a good grip, and knew you were flush with the wall, he lifted your legs around his shoulders one at a time. If you had been any taller, your head would have been touching the ceiling. 

You moaned when your legs opened around his broad shoulders, his hands on your hips so you didn’t fall. You held on to his head as he nuzzled his nose along your folds. “Baby girl, you smell so fucking good.” 

“Please, John,” you closed your eyes and submitted to his touch. He opened your folds with his tongue, his hands were occupied by holding you up, and took your swollen clit in his mouth the same way he did with your nipples. 

You gasped when your nub was welcomed by his warm, wet mouth. He alternated between sucking your clit, and lapping his tongue from your pussy and back up to your clit. You moaned loudly when his tongue covered your sex, up and down, over and over again. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, he would start sucking your clit once more. He removed one hand from your hip, momentarily making you lose balance, but quickly finding it when he wrapped his arm around your back, gaining control over your hips once more. Still sucking and flicking your clit, he entered one long finger into your dripping core. 

“Fuck, baby,” you felt your orgasm form in the pit of your stomach, causing your cunt to tighten around his finger. John stopped sucking for a moment to look up at you and smile, entering a second finger. You looked down to meet his gaze, returning a quick smile before your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened wide as you got closer to your release. John quickly went back to working your clit with his mouth, fucking you with two fingers when he saw the need in your eyes. 

Your pussy clenched tighter around his thick fingers, and your orgasm formed in the pit of your stomach. Every nerve ending tingled, and you released all over John’s fingers, covering them with your juices. “That’s it baby,” he continued fucking you with his finger as you climaxed. “Good girl.” He set you down on your feet once the aftershocks ceased. He grabbed your face and kissed you hard, opening his mouth to wiggle his tongue with yours. Your taste lingered on his tongue, and you moaned when you tasted the salty-sweetness of your own pussy. 

“Don’t you taste so fucking good, princess?” He broke the kiss, and quickly reached behind him to turn the water off. After pulling back the shower curtain, he lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his wet body, kissing him and moaning into his mouth. Your bodies were slippery with water, causing you to adjust and hoist yourself up against John as he carried you to the bedroom. 

There was a trail of wet footprints on the hardwood floors that went to your bed. He threw you down on the bed roughly, but not rough enough to hurt you, just enough to show you that he’s in charge now. When you landed on your stomach, you went to turn around so you were on your back, but he stopped you as you attempted to turn. “No baby,” he grabbed your hips and pulled them so your ass was higher in the air. You body was cold as the warmth of the water disappeared, and goosebumps permeated your skin. His large, warm hands caressed up the back of your legs to bring warmth, and he delivered a quick slap to your right ass cheek. 

“Let’s warm you up, yeah baby?” He asked as he took his bulging length in his fist, stroking himself as precum formed along the tip. “Fuck, you are just so sexy,” he leaned over you, biting down on your neck, your shoulder, and kissing down your back. When his lips reached your ass, he bit that as well, making you shriek and giggle. He stopped stroking himself to push your legs open by your knees. 

Lightly tracing his fingers along your folds, you wiggled your hips, trying to get him to deliver a firmer touch. “John,” you whimpered. “Please.” 

His cock was still in his fist when he ran the velvety tip from your ass, down to your clit, and back up again. “Fuck, fuck,” your breathing was picking up, and you didn’t know how much longer you could take the teasing. 

“Tell me what you want, baby girl,” John said, his voice was rough and sultry. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could tell he was smiling. 

“Fuck me,” you said weakly and desperate. You turned your head to your shoulder, trying to get a visual of him in your peripheral. “Please John.” 

And finally he buried his long thick cock deep into your dripping cunt with one thrust. You shrieked loudly as he hit your g-spot. He quickly withdrew his cock completely, running his hand up your spine. Once he reached your scalp, he took a handful of your hair, pulling your head back. Without releasing his grip of your hair, he buried himself inside you once more. 

“John,” you said with a loud moan. “Please, please fuck me faster.” 

He didn’t thrust, he didn’t move. He just kept his cock inside you, and it felt like he was in your stomach. “You want me to fuck you fast, Y/N?” He thrusted, but he was moving painfully slow. 

“Yes!” You shouted, but he didn’t pick up the pace. “Please!” 

“You’re going to have to ask nicer than that, baby girl,” he said, still moving at the same pace. 

You moaned, grinding your hips up and down, trying to find some relief. John withdrew again, pulling your hair harder and delivering a hard slap to your ass. “I said ask nicely, Y/N.” You gasped in pain and pleasure as his grip on your hair got tighter. 

“John,” you breathed in loudly. “Please, please fuck me,” he ran the head of his cock up and down your sex again, enjoying every minute of his teasing.

“That’s more like it.” He submerged his cock deep into your core again, this time thrusting harder, faster and deeper. He hit your g-spot with each thrust, and he let out a croaky grunt when you squeezed around his shaft. 

The ramming of his length became too much to handle, and you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t moan. All you could do was clutch the sheets with white knuckles. 

He didn’t stop fucking you when you went silent; he knew this was a sign that you were getting close to climax. “Don’t cum yet, baby.” You moaned out in frustration. You were just about to ask permission to cum. 

You pressed your body closer to him, allowing him to bury himself deeper inside you. “Fuck, Y/N, your pussy is dripping.” He grunted, fucking you faster now. “You are so fucking close, huh?” 

“Yes!” You cried out as he fucked you. “Please!” 

“Okay baby,” his thrusts were rapid, and you moaned, almost screaming. “Cum with me.” 

Within seconds your pussy convulsed in another orgasm. You moaned, screamed and cried out in pleasure and then you felt his warm seed pool in the small of your back. 

He didn’t say anything, he just lightly tapped on your butt before walking away to get you a towel and a warm washcloth. John wiped the pool of his cum off your back with the dry towel, and gently wiped your folds and thighs with the warm washcloth.

Once you were both cleaned up, he grabbed a pair of boxers out of your dresser, and laid down next to you. You were facing him, laying naked on your side and he gently ran his fingers up and down your back. 

He smiled when you smiled at him, leaning in to kiss you gently. “You really are stunning, Y/N,” John said quietly, almost a whisper. “You’re never going to change my mind.” 

You rolled your eyes and nuzzled into him, breathing in his scent of body wash and sweat. You loved the way he smelled. Even when he smelled like whiskey, or cigarettes. He was home to you, and every time you smelled him, you were warm, happy and content. 

“I love you, John.” 

He closed his eyes, because he loved you too, sometimes so much it hurt. He kissed your lips deeply and lovingly. “I love you too, honey.” He gently pushed your chin up so you were looking in each others eyes. “More than you’ll ever know.”


End file.
